dodge house

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Live Updates: Speaker Of The House Dodges Question About A Mike Flynn Investigation
National Security Advisor Gen. Mike Flynn resigned Monday evening after it was revealed he lied to the vice president about communicating with Russia before Trump became president.
By BuzzFeed News

Here’s What’s Going On:

  • Gen. Mike Flynn resigned as President Trump’s National Security Advisor on Monday evening after it was revealed he communicated with a Russian official about sanctions before Trump took office — which could have been illegal — then misled Vice President Mike Pence about it.
  • It was also first reported by the Washington Post on Monday evening that former-acting Attorney General Sally Yates in late January briefed Trump that Flynn was vulnerable to Russian blackmail.
  • But, in early February, when asked about Flynn’s communication with the Russians, Trump told reporters he had to “look into” it, adding, “I don’t know about that.”
  • Trump on Tuesday morning seemed to blame the media, tweeting, “The real story here is why are there so many illegal leaks coming out of Washington? Will these leaks be happening as I deal on N.Korea etc?”
  • There was a lot of confusion in the lead-up to Flynn’s resignation — and that’s continuing into Tuesday. Earlier Monday evening, Trump advisor Kellyanne Conway insisted Flynn had the president’s full confidence. Later, Spokesman Sean Spicer walked that back. Shortly after, Flynn resigned. But then, on Tuesday, House Speaker Paul Ryan said that Trump asked for Flynn’s resignation.
  • Democrats are calling for a congressional investigation — but leading Republicans are not.
  • The whole episode offered proof that Pence does have some power to spur change in the White House.
  • And here are the military men who could replace Flynn.
  • Flynn’s son — who has peddled conspiracy theories about Hillary Clinton — said on Twitter Tuesday that his father was the victim of a “disinformation campaign.”
You Were Here All Along

Poly!Hamilsquad x Reader

Modern AU

Author: Lil Laddie

Words: 2534

Warnings: Swearing, cuddling(?)

A/N: Hey cuties! I had a lot of fun writing this one! It is a little longer than usual so I hope you don’t mind. But seriously guys, I looooooooved writing this request!! I hope you lovelies have an amazing day or night! I love you with all my heart!!:)

Request: Can you do a Poly Hamilsquad x Reader where the squad is trying to find a girlfriend that suits all of them (Alex wants her to be smart, John wants her to be funny, ect.), the reader is a long time friend of the squad who is just hanging around and it ends with the squad realizing she has all of what they’re looking for? - @onelastfic


“They need to be smart. I can’t be dating an idiot. I want them to be able to stay up late with me wondering about the universe and what it holds. They need to be able to hold their end on an intelligent conversation.” Alex decided, Herc scribbling down smart on his notepad.

“They have to be funny. I can’t date someone without a sense of humor. They can’t be rude jokes though, they need to understand the line between funny and offensive. I just want to be able to never stop laughing with them.” John explained, Herc writing down funny underneath smart.

“I want them to be passionate. I don’t care what they are passionate about, but it needs to be something they would stand for and that they love. I want them to just go on for hours about this thing and watch their face light up with happiness.” Lafayette smiled at the thought, Herc once again writing down what he had said on the notepad.

“I want them to be affectionate. I love being able to just cuddle someone for hours on end and I want them to be okay with that. They need to also not focus on one of us with their love, but equal with their cuddles and affections.” Hercules said, finishing off the list on his notepad.

“So, what are we looking for?” John asked, trying to peek around Hercules to see the list he had wrote.

“We want to date someone who is smart, funny, passionate and loving.” Herc read off, the boys around him smiling and nodding their heads.

“Whatcha guys up to?” You asked, walking into the small kitchen where they were gathered.

“OH MY GOD!” Alex screamed, not knowing you had walked into the kitchen.

“Sorry.” You apologized, watching Alex catch his breath from the scare.

“He’s so jumpy.” John laughed, watching Alex still look around with panic on his face.

“What’re you doing here, (Y/N)?” Hercules asked, only to receive a dirty look from you.

“Did you forget what tonight is?” You asked, glaring at the four boys that sat around the table.

“Shit! It’s movie night!” Laf yelled in realization as the other boy’s eyes widened.

“We’ll set up right now! Alex will keep you company!” John shouted, running out of the room with Herc and Laf right behind him.

“Damn. Sorry we forgot, (Y/N).” Alex apologized, moving a stool out for you to sit next to him.

“Don’t worry about it, you guys get busy. It’s not really that big of a deal.” You shrugged.

“Even if we do get busy, we shouldn’t have forgotten movie night.” Alex mumbled, slouching slightly in his seat.

“If I say I forgive you guys, can we go on like it never happened?” You asked lightly, placing your hand gently on his slumped shoulder.

“I guess that could work…” Alex said looking up to see you smiling brightly at him.

For just a second he forgot you were his best friend and saw you as something more, much more. Before he knew it, you had taken him into a conversation about Professor Washington’s newest assignment for class. He had never realized just how smart you were. Wait, smart? He reprimanded himself for thinking you were just smart. You were a genius and it simply amazed him.

As you passionately explained in great detail what you would do for the assignment, Alex got lost in his thoughts. He didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it sooner? You were perfect for not only him, but his boyfriends too. The new partner that they had been looking for had been right in front of them the whole time.

“Alex, are you even listening to me?” You asked, slightly annoyed with Alex as he sat there with jaw hanging wide open.

“Sorry, I just caught up in my thoughts. I heard the beginning, but could you say the rest of it again?” Alex asked, a small blush dancing across his cheeks.

“Maybe later, the boys just said they were done setting up. We gotta go help them decide the movie.” You stood up quickly, offering your hand to Alex to help him stand up.

“Thanks.” Alex said barely above a whisper, his cheeks having heated up more at the touch of your hand on his.

“Of course!” You grinned, deciding to ignore the obvious blush on the cheeks. You walked to the living room with Alex right behind you.

“What took you two so long?” Hercules asked as the two walked through the door.

“I had to wake Alex from his daydreaming.” You said, nodding your head back to the man that had entered after you.

“What were you daydreaming of, mon amour?” Laf asked, the curiosity easy to see on his face.

“I…uh…well…” Alex stuttered, the blush that had finally faded from his cheeks making a bold return.

“He was probably fantasizing being far away from us and writing to his heart’s content.” You giggled, saving Alex from having to come up with some ridiculous excuse.

“I doubt it. He was probably daydreaming about being on a private island with us three.” John smirked suggestively as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Or maybe he was dreaming about that private island with Professor Washington.” You smirked back, the three boys laughing loudly at the joke while Alex’s blush somehow grew bigger.

John continued to laugh while you said a couple more playful jabs to Alex about his love for Professor Washington. His laugh faded as he instead became entranced by how playful you were with his boyfriends. You fit in so well with them and made them all laugh so hard. How had he been so blind?

It was obvious now what Alex had been daydreaming about, it was you. Alex and John made eye contact, travelling a silent message. They both agreed that you fit their dream partner almost perfectly. They just had to wait for the other two to realize it on their own.

“Can we just vote on the movie now?” Alex asked, having enough with being embarrassed by his friend and boyfriends for the night.

“Sounds like a good idea to me!” Herc’s voice boomed through the room. “Everyone pull out the movie you want us to watch tonight and then we will decide from there.”

“You know this always causes a lot of arguments, maybe we should try something different.” You suggested, watching the other three boys shove each other over as they reached for their favorite movies.

“Nah, it’s funny to see everyone argue, besides we always stop it before we get hurtful or too intense.” Herc shrugged, laughing at the struggle the others were having as the fought to grab their movie of choice. “Now grab your pick so we can debate!” Herc pushed you forward gently.

You quickly dodged the boys rough housing and grabbed one of your favorite movies of all time, ‘Peter Pan’. You knew the boys were going to complain because they all thought it was some overrated kids movie, but had any of them ever taken the time to sit down and watch it? No, so they didn’t have any room to judge it.

“Okay, so I have-” Alex started only to be cut of by John.

“Boo! It sounds boring!!” John yelled, before looking around the room with his puppy dog eyes. “Can we, please, start watching the movie of my choice?” The boys hummed small agreements to his question, so that they wouldn’t have to deal with an overheated debate with Alex and John.

“No way! I want to argue my movie and you guys are going to listen!” You protested, jumping up from the couch and standing in front of the four. “Peter Pan”

“That movie is so overrated!” Laf cried, quickly being silenced by your sharp glare.

“As I was saying, Peter Pan. It is simply amazing in every single way, it is a classic. The art in the movie is beautiful, just wait till you see Neverland! This has been my favorite since I was a child and it will never change, why should it? It is a story that makes you want to run away and discover places you’ve never been. Discover your own Neverland. Besides, who are you to judge a movie you have never seen?” You ranted on passionately, almost out of breath.

From on the couch, Lafayette watched you with pure adoration. He had seen when Alex had gone into his full on rants and trust me he thought those were adorable, but you? Right now you were baring your heart to him and it was simply irresistable. The way that your eyes lit up at their protests against the movie. He had never realized how much fire and passion you had.

In fact, now that he thought about it, why had he never noticed you in the first place? You were almost always with them. Each moment that had with you was so amazing. You were always sharing new ideas and the passion you had for them. As he thought about this it made him finally understand what they had been missing. It was like a new beautiful light had started to shine down on his life. From the look in his eyes, Alex and John knew that he had fallen for you just as hard as they had.

“Let’s watch it!” Laf smiled, interrupting the second half of your rant that you had started.

“Are you serious?” You asked in shock.

“Of course I am! Go put the disk in.” Laf encouraged, watching you skip with joy to the tv.

Lafayette, John and Alex exchanged looks, knowing what they had to do. They all scooted as far away as possible from a very confused Hercules. He looked at them sadly, not knowing why they would leave him to watch the movies without their usual cuddling.

“Cuddles?” Herc asked, looking at the boys in confusion with his bulky arms wide open.

“No.” Alex said simply as the Laf and John shook their heads no.

“What am I supposed to do during the movie without someone to hold?” Hercules asked, not knowing what to do now with his hands.

“Why don’t you snuggle, (Y/N)?” Laf suggested, trying to act nonchalantly about it.

“Fine, I will.” Herc huffed, but he didn’t really know what he was complaining about. You were one of the best people he knew to snuggle with.

“Get ready for the best movie you will ever see.” You announced plopping down on the empty space on the couch.

“Snuggle me?” Hercules asked you, looking at you with some of the saddest eyes you had ever seen.

“Aw, of course Herc!” You exclaimed, quickly moving in a position where you would both be comfortable.

Hercules wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back tightly to his chest so the two of you were spooning. For some reason he found his drifting to your face as the movie began. He could feel you snuggling closer to him within the first 10 minutes of the movie. He didn’t realized he had missed the whole beginning until he heard a snicker from the other end of the couch.

He looked up to see his 3 boyfriends smirking at him and giggling like little kids. Of course they had set this up, but he was glad they had. He had been the last to realize it, but you were the perfect addition they had been looking for. You had fit each of their requirements and he was very impressed with how good you were at cuddling. If he thought about it, you were never one to say no to cuddling with any of them.

“Alex.” You whisper to the boy on your other side. “Come snuggle with us, please.” You begged, opening your arms for him to join you and Herc.

“If you insist.” Alex couldn’t help the smile on his face as he quickly jumped on top of the two of you.

“I can’t miss out on this opportunity of cuddling!” John yelled, moving on the couch so you were now spooning him. He loved being the baby spoon.

“You can’t exclude me!” Lafayette protested, smashing himself on top of all four of you. His long arms wrapped around all of you easily as he snuggled his face in between Herc’s and your shoulders.

As you continued to watch the movie, you could feel four pair of eyes on you. They watching your face carefully, making it very hard to focus on the movie. They were hiding something from you, it was painfully obvious.

“Why are you all looking at me?” You asked, not taking your eyes off of the bright screen.

“H-how did you know we were looking at you?” Laf stuttered, making John facepalm slightly at his slip up.

“It’s obvious.” You grabbed the remote and paused the movie before looking at each of the boys. “What are you hiding from me?”

“We’ve been looking for a new partner lately. Alex wants them to be intelligent, John wants them to be smart, Laf wants them to be passionate and I wanted them to be affectionate. We’ve been blind for so long to not see the perfect person for us was here all along.” Herc said, looking nervously for your reaction.

“I’m so happy for you guys! Who is it?” You asked, forcing out a grin.

It had been painfully obvious how much you had been crushing on these boys for the past year, but you would support them in whatever made them happy. Even if that happiness did not include you.

“It’s you. We want you to be our new partner, (Y/N).” John said, your eyes widening in shock at his words.

“M-me?” You choked out, not believing the words that had just left John’s mouth.

“You are amazing, mon ange. We have been so dumb not to realize that you are so much more than a friend to us.” Laf smiled gently, the boys watching you carefully.

“I would love that so much!” You exclaimed, pulling them all into a group hug. “I can’t believe you never noticed the crush I’ve had on you boys for years!”

“We can be very oblivious sometimes.” Alex laughed, pressing kisses to everyone’s head.

“More like all the time.” You scoffed, hearing them all protest at your statement.

“Now that this is out of the way, let’s enjoy this movie.” Herc smiled, waiting for everyone to readjust in their cuddling before he started the movie again.

You didn’t know how you could be so lucky to suddenly have four amazing boyfriends. You couldn’t keep the wide grin off of your face. To say you were happy was an understatement. You knew that maybe it was too early to say that you were falling in love with them, but it was the truth. You had been falling in love with them the moment you had met them a year ago in the library that was on campus. Lucky for you, you weren’t the only one feeling this way. They were falling for you just as hard.

anonymous asked:

did you SEE HOW HE DODGED THE HOUSE T OUR QUEYTSYTOON BIH I SEE YOU PHIL OKQY OKAU

did u see how he got all stuttery while he was talking about his bedroom bein small..

Derek was back in Beacon Hills for three weeks before he saw Stiles. He was honestly surprised he hadn’t run into Stiles yet, since he never seemed to stop the last time he was in town, when Peter bit Scott and all hell broke loose for years on end.

This time, he didn’t run into Stiles so much as track him down on a whim. Scott had offhandedly mentioned Stiles had just bought a house on Oak a week prior and Derek just happened to drive by Oak and figured, what could it hurt?

He drove blindly, eyes sweeping from house to house. He was just about to give the excersize up as completely pointless when he spotted the last house on the corner.

The house was, in a word, a mess. The best thing Derek could say about it was that it needed a fresh coat of paint. And new walls under the paint. There was no way for Derek to know for sure that this was Stiles’ house, but he rolled to a stop at the curb anyway because of course Stiles would pick the house in need of the most help.

He walked up to the front door and, sure enough, Stiles’ familiar scent hit him as he stepped onto the porch. He paused to let himself adjust. There weren’t exactly a lot of pleasant memories attached to that scent. After a moment, he raised a hand to knock, only to find the front door hanging slightly ajar.

He pushed it open slowly and called out, “Stiles?”

When there was no answer, he walked in and followed the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat to the back of the house, dodging an exposed wire haging from the ceiling along the way. He found himself in the doorway to the kitchen when he finally laid eyes on Stiles.

Stiles was crouched in front of the baseboard on the far wall, prying it off with a crowbar.

“Stiles,” Derek said loudly, after watching him pry off two sections. He still had terrible self-preservation instincts. How he made it this far, Derek will never understand.

Stiles yelped and fell right on his ass, sent the crowbar flying across the room, and scrambled to turn around. Derek couldn’t help but grin; he always did get an inordinant amount of joy out of messing with Stiles.

“Oh my god,” Stiles breathed once he finally got his limbs to cooperate and he saw who was in his house. “What the hell? Ever heard of knocking?”

“Ever heard of closing your door?” Derek countered. “Anyone could just walk right in. It’s not very safe.”

“I-“ Stiles rolled his eyes. “I did. The house settled weirdly. Sometimes the front door doesn’t close all the way.”

“You should really fix that.”

Stiles stared up at him, unimpressed. “Thank you for that advice.”

He stood up, dusted off his jeans, and walked over to pick his crowbar back up. He tossed it on the small workbench he’d set up in the middle of the room, then turned back to Derek. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Scott told me you bought a house,” Derek said.

“So you decided breaking and entering was the best way to go about seeing my new abode. Glad to see your social skills haven’t improved in, what, ten years?”

Derek gave him a mocking smile. Instead of answering, Derek asked, “Why are you messing with the baseboard when you have an electrical hazard in your front hallway?”

“Ah. That.” Stiles shrugged. “I figured I’d do one thing each day. Break it up into chunks, you know?” He gestured back towards the wall he had just been working on. “Today was baseboard day.”

Derek just stared at him.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“You’re going to kill yourself,” Derek said. It wasn’t an if, it was a when.

“Okay, that’s a little dramatic.”

“You bought a death trap of a house and then decided oranmental woodwork was more important than and exposed wire.

“I told you have a plan. Start small, work every day, and the house will be fixed up in no time.”

“Stiles.”

“Who even invited you here? Because I know it wasn’t me. I didn’t even know you were back in town.”

“Scott said-“

“Scott told you I bought a house. Did he invite you to see it on my behalf?” When Derek didn’t reply, Stiles said, “Exactly. And now you want to come in here and be all judgemental and I don’t have time for it. I have a lot of work to do, as you’ve already pointed out, so if you could just leave me to it that’d be great.”

Derek wasn’t going to say it. He wasn’t going to get involved. He wasn’t even supposed to drive down this street. And yet, now that he was here, he couldn’t help but notice the bags under Stiles’ eyes, how exhausted he looked. Derek never did learn how to not care about the kid.

“Stiles, when was the last time you slept?” Derek asked.

Stiles squinted somewhere over Derek’s left shoulder. “What day is it again?”

“Right.” Derek closed the distance between them, grabed his shoulder, and shoved him towards the door.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Cutting you off. You need sleep.”

Stiles turned around and said, “I have a bed upstairs. First thing I set up. I’m not completely helpless.”

Derek snorted, and Stiles glared at him.

“Listen,” Stiles said, digging his heels in when Derek tried to start pushing again, “I never asked for you to come here. I-”

“Now you know what it was like knowing you in high school,” Derek says. “Go. This will all still be here tomorrow.”

“But I’ll lose so much work time,” Stiles protested, even as his body finally gave in and started walking out of the kitchen. “I have to get this house done, Derek. It’s my house. I live here now.”

“I know.”

When they got outside, Stiles stopped again and asked, “Wait, where are we going? My bed is upstairs.”

“My place,” Derek answered. He didn’t trust Stiles’ bed not to fall through the ceiling. Not until he checked the floorboards, anyway.

“Wait, what?”

“You can sleep on my couch for now.”

“Wait, what?”

“Stiles. Just walk. I’m going to fix your wiring problem, and the drill would just keep you up if you stayed here.”

“Am I dreaming?” Stiles asked, looking around in a daze. “Is this a dream?”

“Stiles. Walk, or I will throw you.”

“You are really weird, you know that?”

Derek did know. He shoved Stiles at the car.

Stiles only tripped a little.

4

The adventurers charge across the bridge towards the manor house, dodging crossbow bolts and scorching rays from an enchanted statue before rushing on to lay siege to the Mayor’s manor house itself.

Inspired to greater feats of bravery by Dora the bard’s music, Neko uses his Feline Agility and Claws help him quickly climb up the wall. He takes on the Captain of the Guard and uses his Thunderous Smite to knock him flying off the wall and down to his companions waiting below.

The rest of the party climbs a rope up the wall and joins the battle with the Mayor’s guards as they try and avoid the hail of bolts from the crossbowmen. During the attack Leet the Rogue is hit by a bolt but Denna’s Healing Word spell saves him from death.

Here are the XP totals for the characters in this week’s session:
Keora, 3rd Level Dwarf Cleric - 2175 xp
Popshot, 3rd Level Elf Rogue - 1975 xp
Neko, 3rd Level Tabaxi Paladin - 1480 xp
Quinn, 3rd Level Human Wizard - 1465 xp
Laura, 3rd Level Human Wizard - 1025 xp
Denna, 2nd Level Human Cleric - 755 xp
Doré, 2nd Level Half-Elven Bard - 405 xp
Drastrix 2nd Level Lizardfolk Ranger - 375 xp
Leet, 2nd Level Human Rogue - 375 xp
Taryn, 2nd Level Dwarf Fighter - 375 xp

Doré, Drastrix, Leet and Taryn are now 2nd level!

Maps by @2minutetabletop. Paper miniatures by @okumarts, @chiefasaur and @stuartdraws.

At the altar with the Enemy (pt. 2)

READ PT. ONE HERE

Special mention to @itsmhayward​, @fantasticnewtimagines​ 

Summary: You and Newt Scamander are taking the big step and against everybody’s opinion you two are getting married. And the day has come at last...


“Hurry up, Daisy, we’re not waiting for the Emperor of China climb up his horse and come all the way up'ere. You’re a squib, not a crippled, Merlin’s beard!”
“The trays are too heavy, Mrs. Pattmore!” Daisy huffed upset, “If Alfred could stop looking at that american Lady Queenie and come give me hand…”  
Alfred’s eyes almost popped out of place, “I’m not-”
“Bloody hell, you better move those feet. You may have worked at the Ritz, young man, but right now Lady Y/N needs us for her big day, so…” she pointed at the trays full of biscuits and mini tarts, and as a soldier to his general, Alfred took them fast and disappeared from the kitchen with cheeks burning red.
Mrs. Huges came down the stairs, her wand in hand. She dodged a small house elf when a maid squealed and tripped, a big tower of porcelain dishes she was carrying fell freely to the ground causing a loud scandal. Mrs. Huges swhished a quick ‘reparo’ and the plates came from shattered pieces to their whole state.
“Be careful next time, child” she scolded with a stern look and went back to business.

Keep reading

2

[ Request: Jax smut where he admits his love after a break up with a boyfriend (feelings reciprocated) ] 

You threw your keys at the wall, slinging your boots off and throwing your purse to the ground all in one swift motion. You had just had the day from hell, and your dumbass boyfriend has just made it worse. Or maybe I should say ex-boyfriend, you thought to yourself. The dick had dumped you via text less than an hour ago. Not that you really cared all that much. You weren’t exactly dating Prince Charming by any means. He was just somebody to pass the time with. But the fact that he had dumped you with a text message after a little over a year together coupled with your shitty day at work just pissed you off. You needed a drink, and you needed it fast.

You stomped your way to the kitchen, hoping to God you had something stronger than beer to drown your sorrows. You ripped open your cabinets, quickly searching through them for any sign of hard liquor. Then your eyes landed on a black-label bottle of whiskey. 

You snatched the bottle out of the cabinet, a wicked smile stamped across your face. You were determined to forget this entire day had ever happened.

——————————————————————————————-

“Jesus Christ,” Jax muttered to himself as he took in the scene formerly known as your living room. There were bottles scattered everywhere, and the place was a wreck. He could hardly make out the sofa underneath the massive pile of neglected laundry. He took in a deep breath and shook his head. He knew his work was cut out for him this time. 

Jax had known you for as long as he could remember. You were like family to him. Hell, Gemma jokingly called you her daughter on more than one occasion. Jax had been with you through practically everything. All the ups and downs. All the heartbreaks. All the high school drama, followed by all the real adult drama. Jax had been with you through all the changes that life had brought about. But through all the years of friendship, one thing had remained the same. Jax was irrevocably, incredibly, heartbreakingly in love with you. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. 

He knew you loved him. But the way you loved Jax and the way Jax loved you were two totally different kinds of love. You loved Jax, as a friend. Jax was in love with you. And he knew he could never tell you that. You had brought home boyfriend after boyfriend, and Jax had met them all. Jax had also hated every single one of them. He knew they weren’t right for you. None of them were good enough for you. Especially not the last one. Jax had hated the guy ever since you had introduced them. He knew the two of you would break up eventually, and judging by the current state of your living room and your liver, Jax assumed that time had come.

“Y/N?” he called, cautiously stepping further into the house, dodging piles of clothes and old liquor bottles as he went. He peered down the hallway, towards your bedroom. “Hey, Y/N!” 

You opened your eyes and groggily stared at your celling. Your head pounded, and your body ached. Why you had decided attempting to drink an entire fifth of whiskey in one night was a good idea, you couldn’t remember now. 

“In here,” you moaned, clutching your head in your hands and willing it to stop aching. 

Jax followed the sound of your voice. “You alright?” he asked as he stepped into your room. He let out a light laugh as he took in the sight of you. “You look pretty rough,” he told you with a smirk. Truthfully, he still thought you looked beautiful, even hungover and with messy hair. 

You sighed and cracked a weak smile as you looked at your best friend. “I’m good.” 

Jax grinned. “Wanna get some coffee?”

You nodded your head slowly. “Please and thank you.” 

——————————————————————————————-

“So what’s the deal with you and what’s-his-name?” Jax asked, taking a drag of his cigarette.

The two of you were sitting outside TM. Jax had been crashing at your house every night for the last few days, basically ever since he found you in your drunken stupor. He told you it was to keep you company, but you had your suspicions that he had other reasons.

“What do you mean?” you asked, taking the cigarette from his hands and taking a long drag.

Jax watched you for a moment. “Come on, Y/N,” he leaned forward, placing his arms on the table that separated you two, “Don’t lie to me.” 

You sighed loudly. You had known this conversation was coming. Jax wasn’t one to just let things go. But you didn’t want to deal with it. Not now. Not ever, really. 

“He dumped me,” you answered matter-of-factly. “About a week ago.” You took another long drag of the cigarette between your fingers and stared into Jax’s blue eyes. “Haven’t talked to him since.” 

Jax nodded his head, taking his cigarette back from you. “Sorry to hear that.”

A small, satisfied smirk spread across your lips. You narrowed your eyes and shook your head as you looked at Jax. “I’m not.” 

Jax raised his eyebrows, a smirk now forming on his own lips. He shook his head and let out a deep sigh. “Well,” he said, taking one last drag off his cigarette before putting it out. “That makes two of us then.”

——————————————————————————————-

“Jax,” you moaned. You couldn’t get enough of the feel of Jax’s lips pressed to your skin. He gave your thighs a squeeze. His lips curled up into a smirk. He loved hearing the sound of his name coming from your lips. 

He kissed his way up from your thighs back to your lips. He wanted to kiss every part of your body, run his hands over every curve, every inch of your skin. He had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was finally here, he wanted to savor every moment. He longed to feel more of you. 

“Jax,” you breathed, pulling him closer to you. 

Everything had happened so fast. You and Jax were talking, then suddenly you were clawing at each other’s clothes. Before you knew what happened, you found yourself in his bed, your bodies pressed together, your limbs tangled up. You fit together so perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle. Like you belonged together all along. 

“Say my name,” he whispered into your ear. You felt a shiver run down your spine. You needed to feel more of him. 

“Jax.” You pulled at his hips. You wanted him more than you had ever wanted anything before. You needed him like a drug. You wanted to feel every part of him. 

Jax’s strong hands gripped your hips. He worked his way between your thighs and spread your legs apart with his knees. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to your neck. You let out a satisfied moan as he entered you for the first time.

——————————————————————————————-

You stood in front of Jax’s bed, pulling on last night’s clothes that had just been scattered on his bedroom floor mere moments before. Jax was at the front of the clubhouse. You had sent him to get coffee while you showered and got dressed. You had woken up this morning, lying naked in the arms of your best friend. You needed a few moments alone to gather your thoughts. 

You ran through all the events of last night in your mind. It had been the best and quite possibly the most confusing night of your life. You weren’t sure how you felt about what happened or what you thought just yet. Hell, you weren’t sure how it all even happened. You hadn’t had much time to think about it all. All you knew was that you were the happiest you had been in years. And that’s all you cared about at the moment. You would figure everything else out later.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Jax blurted, snapping you back to reality. 

You looked up to see Jax standing in the doorway of his room. He had been watching you for several minutes, but you were so lost in your own thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed. Your eyes grew wide as your mind processed what Jax had just said. “What?”

His lips formed a smirk, but his hands shook with nerves. “You heard me.”

You watched him for a moment, feeling as if all the air had just been knocked out of you. You couldn’t believe the words that had just escaped Jax’s lips. You had secretly wanted to hear him say those words for years, but you never expected that he ever would. And now that he finally had, you couldn’t even form a response. You were left speechless.  

Jax swallowed hard and smiled nervously. “Now would be a really good time for you to say something, babe.” 

Your face broke out into a smile. “I think I love you too,” you said breathlessly. 

Jax’s face erupted into a grin. “Thank God.” He crossed the room and wrapped his muscular arms around your waist. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for longer than you know, babe.” He placed a kiss on top of your head. Everything was finally falling into place, and Jax couldn’t be happier.

Burned(Marliza AU)

Word count: 6456(I’m so sorry)

Note: so, this took too long to write, is too long, but I’m very excited about it. It’s a Paper Towns AU, and if you’ve read Paper Towns then you know this is going to be interesting.

Thanks so much to @secretschuylersister for reading through everything and screaming support. And thanks for @sunriseovertheroomwhereithappens for helping me edit some

Warning: alcohol mentions, swearing, mentions of sex, cheating, and being a terrible sister

Tags: @maybe-mikala @queerenbian @linmanuclmiranda @ham4fan-fiction


Eliza had never been entirely grounded to one spot. She had a move-around-never-sit-still-always-doing-something personality.

Her outlandish adventures and increasingly epic escapades had attracted people to her like moths to a bug-zapper: beautiful but deep down dangerous, and she burned the people that got too close.

All but one, and that one burned her.


“Maria, I’m just saying, if you choose to go to college straight out of highschool then your father and I can try to pay-”

“But nothing is guaranteed,” I argued. It was this way all the time– go the way we want and we can support you until we can’t, and we can’t always came too soon. “That’s why I’m saying I need to wait and save enough money to pay for what you can’t. If I take out student loans, I’ll drown in them.”

“This might not be the best choice for you, Maria.”

“That’s the only route that’s guaranteed,” I pointed out, before looking through the passenger seat window and realizing we had pulled up outside the brick entrance to school, the glass doors gleaming. “Would you look at that, we’re here,” I said, desperate to get out of the judgemental atmosphere of my mother’s van. “Gotta go.” I kissed her on the cheek, before pushing the door open and hopping out. My mother didn’t even make an attempt at rolling down the tinted window and shouting something about having a good day and that she loved me. Instead, she put the car in drive, and disappeared into the line of cars waiting for an escape out of the endless parking lot.

“Wouldya look at that,” a familiar voice shouted. “Maria Lewis in da house!” I turned around, coming face-to-face with Sarah, one half of the only two friends I had retained thus far.

“I’ve only missed one day this year, why do you sound so surprised?”

“Ah yes, that one glorious day you missed, because of a wicked hangover.”

“Sarah,” I cautioned. She knew better than to be shouting my illegal affairs at the top of her lungs. Albeit, my list of illegal affairs was a short one.

“Remind me,” she continued, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes. “Wouldn’t that be the same night that you almost hooked up with-”

“Zip it!” I hissed, before grabbing Sarah’s arm and yanking her into the building. I tugged her into the first bathroom I could find, without releasing her arm. “What is wrong with you?”

“Shall I organize that alphabetically or in greatest to least in terms of affecting my daily life?” She asked, a sarcastic smile hooking up the corners of her mouth.

“I’m serious, Sarah. There are things you shout in front of a school, and there are things you don’t.”

“I’m going to need some examples.”

“Things you do shout,” I began, counting on my fingers. “‘Did you do the math homework’ ‘I need coffee’ ‘I regret not calling in fake sick.’”

“And things you don’t?” She mused.

“Stuff about my sexlife!” I snapped, and the message finally seemed to cross her mind. After a moment of silence, “understood,” was all she muttered.

“Thank you,” I drawled, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I have to get to calculus.”

“So you’re going to leave me stranded in this bathroom?” She asked, the usual joking manner coming back into her full force.

“There’s an exit, I’m sure you can figure the way out.”

“Obviously,” she scoffed, and I stopped long enough to take in her look. “But are you forgetting that Quinn has your calculus notebook?”

I groaned. Sarah was right, Quinn– the other of my only two friends– did have my calculus notebook in her possession. “You could have lead with that!” I snapped.

“You know I don’t operate that way.”

“Where’s Quinn?” I asked, blowing a breath through my teeth. “I need to get my notebook, then I need to kill her.”

“No murders,” Sarah bargained, and I shot her a glance that clearly said to be quiet unless you want to end up on my hitlist. “It’s before first period, so she’s in band.”

“Lead the way, band nerd supreme.”


After successfully getting my notebook back from the ever brilliant, yet slightly naïve Quinn, I rushed back to calculus, knowing that if there was even a strand of my curly hair not in the room when the bell rang, I was toast. As nice as Mr Jacobsen is, he was 1) extremely strict with the bell and 2) determined to ruin my standing of being the only student that had never been late to his class.

I passed by Eliza, forcing myself to keep walking instead of trying to dig up the courage to talk to her.


I stared at eight different clocks for eight total hours, waiting for the day to go by. While I cornered my thoughts of Eliza into one part of my mind, forcing the others to focus on the writing on the board and occasionally the clock above the door.

None of what my English teacher, Mrs Grissom, was talking about made sense, and I found my mind become less focused on the board and more focused on the clock.

Finally, it struck 3:20 in the afternoon and we were free to leave. I gathered my things, and made a dash for the door. I knew better than to assume that Mrs Grissom wouldn’t notice my lack of interest in her lesson on some century and a half old book, and I wanted to get out of there before I heard-

“Ms Lewis, could I have a word with you?” My shoulders slumped, and I bit my lip before turning around and plastering a fake smile on my face mid-turn.

“Yes?”

“Could you tell me anything that I was talking about during the lesson?” She asked, “anything at all?” I made a quick glance to the blackboard, and noticed it mercifully had some writing on it. I made out the words Jane Eyre, which were sloppily written and crookedly underlined.

I sighed, a weight coming off of my shoulders. I may not have known what the lecture was about, but I could give a summary of the book. “Jane Eyre was written in 1847 by Charlotte Brontë. It follows the life of Jane Eyre, a young orphaned girl. She survives an abusive childhood and goes on to become a teacher and then a governess for the ward of a man named Mr. Rochester. They fall in love, but strange things-”

“You clearly weren’t paying attention,” Mrs Grissom interrupted, clicking her tongue. “Look at the board- completely this time, not out of the corner of your eye.” She gave me a knowing look, and I bit my lip. I turned to the board, noticing the title of the lesson written far above the title of the book.

“Feminism: comparison between Jane Eyre and today…” I muttered, groaning quietly. I turned back to Mrs Grissom. “Oops?”

“‘Oops’ indeed.” I sat through her five-minute lecture on paying attention and getting enough sleep in order to pay attention.

Finally, she let me go, and I rushed to my locker, throwing my books in my bag before grabbing it and hoisting it onto my shoulder. I knew Sarah and Quinn would be gone by now, but what I didn’t expect was to see Eliza rush out of the passenger side of her older sister’s car.

She looked at me for a millisecond, and I saw enough to know that someone had gravely messed up; her face was red and tear streaked, and she wiped at one of her cheeks before closing the car door with a slam, rushing away.

I looked back at the car, and saw someone– presumably her older sister, but Angelica couldn’t have made her that upset– slam their hands on the dashboard before the door opened. Indeed, Angelica did rush out, barely even making sure the door was closed before running after her sister.

“Eliza, wait!” Angelica shouted, but Eliza had already disappeared. “Damnit!” I heard Angelica shout, before deciding to make myself scarce. I ducked back into the school, calling my mom and requesting that she come pick me up.

By the time my mom made it, the two elder Schuyler sisters had disappeared, as had Angelica’s car.

“Did you have a good day, sweetie?” My mom asked, the pretentious mood she had been in this morning had been dropped entirely.

“It was fine,” I answered automatically, knowing better than to tell her about Eliza and Angelica. She would have called their father immediately after getting home, and I didn’t fancy being in the center of that.

“That’s good,” she said, before putting the car in drive and pulling out of the school parking lot.


Upon getting back to my house, I dodged my mother’s questions of why I had been late, and took my bag up to my room to actually read Jane Eyre, and I looked out of my window. Angelica’s car wasn’t in the driveway, and Eliza’s curtains were pulled closed.

I sighed, and contemplated ignoring Jane Eyre and seeing if she was online. My will to find out if she was okay over took my responsible side, and I set down Jane Eyre (which was only open to page eleven) and took a seat in my computer chair. I opened my laptop, logging onto a chat room used in majority by the population of Rodgers High School, and nearly no one else.

Eliza wasn’t on, but Quinn was. I watched as an italicized notification told me that Quinn requested to send me a message. I clicked the notification, and read the short greeting.

Quinn2719: heard you got chewed out by Grimace- I mean Grissom

Mammamiaitsmaria: let me live.

Quinn2719: ‘fraid not, old friend. You best be ignoring me and reading Jane Eyre right now, unless you want another lecture from the beast herself

Mammamiaitsmaria: okay, mom

I logged out, closing my laptop, resolving to sit down and read like I should be. I made it to chapter six before I was called downstairs by my mom to eat dinner.

I ate, barely uttering a word while my parents discussed a spike in gas prices and a lack of well-educated people in politics. I finished, rinsing my plate in the sink, and rushing back upstairs before either of them could ask my opinion on the most recent Facebook post made by some government official in Arkansas.

I read to chapter nine of Jane Eyre before marking my spot with a loose piece of paper, and taking a quick shower. I logged back onto the chat room after my shower, messaged Quinn (mostly complaining about Mrs Grissom) and had just laid down when I heard a noise at my window.

I opened my eyes, but didn’t sit up. My first thought was a tree branch, then I immediately remembered that there was not a tree within window scratching distance. I heard the window open, and felt a rush of cool air flood into my room, followed by a soft sound that said someone had done a somersault into my room, via my bedroom window.

Finally, I grabbed the softball bat leaning by my bed, and in one fluid motion sat up, and turned around, swinging the bat out in front of me. A female-figured person stood inches away from the end of my bat, a hoodie pulled up over their face and skinny jeans covering their legs. They had ratty converse, which were sloppily tied and needed to be replaced.

“Jesus Christ!” A distinctly familiar voice shouted. “Are you crazy?” I lowered the bat, at the same time the figure lowered their hood. Immediately, I recognized Eliza, and I moved to click on my bedside light.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “I don’t want to wake up your parents.”

“You just screamed at the top of your lungs, and they haven’t come rushing to what they suppose would be my aid. I think we’re in the clear.” I clicked on the light, and looked Eliza in the face. “Why did you somersault into my window?” I asked, pushing my blanket off my legs and pulling them to my chest.

“Because I need to borrow you and I need to borrow your car,” she said, clicking her tongue, and shoving her hands into the pockets of her hoodie

“You seem to be uneducated in how my life works, because I don’t have a car.”

“Then your parents car,” she said. “They do have a car, right?”

“I’d have to steal the keys,” I announced, raising my eyebrows. “And that is a thing I’m not going to do.”

“Where are the keys, then?” She asked, raising her eyebrows in a bad imitation of me.

“On the kitchen counter,” I answered, about to ask why when she disappeared from my bedroom.

“Oh, hell no.” I jumped off of my bed, turning out of the hallway and rushing down the stairs after Eliza. I pushed open the door to the kitchen to see her sitting at one of the stools on the island, her feet propped up on the counter, spinning the keys around her index finger by the keyring.

“I am not stealing my moms car,” I said, pushing my semi-dried hair off my shoulders.

“I’ll be your accomplice,” she offered, still spinning the keys around her finger. “Because either way, I’m doing what I need to do.”

“And just what do you so badly need to do?”

“There are a few things, actually, and at least half of them involve an accomplice.” She finally stopped spinning the keys, catching them in her hand, and put her feet back to the ground, bouncing her legs.

“Why don’t you get Peggy or Angelica to do it?” I asked, immediately regretting it when I noticed her setting her jaw.

“Because my sisters are part of the problem.”

“Alexander, then.”

“He’s the biggest problem,” Eliza whispered. “Please.” I looked her in the eye, and knew without knowing what my answer would be.

“Alright. Let me get dressed.”


I threw on a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt emblazoned with a logo to a band I didn’t even like anymore, and rushed downstairs.

“You ready, curly sue?” Eliza asked after I emerged into the kitchen. I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but motioned for her to follow me.

We made it into the foyer, and I had just grabbed a loose jacket from one of the pegs by the door.

“Maria?” I heard my mother’s voice whisper in a questioning tone. “And is that Elizabeth Schuyler?” I looked at her in the corner of my eye. Her lips were pulled up in a clever smirk, her eyes glowing mischievously.

“Susanna, how are you?” Eliza exclaimed, turning on her heel, her hair brushing my shoulder. “It’s been so long, long enough for you to not know that I go by Eliza, mostly.”

“I’m good, but I would like to know what exactly my daughter and my neighbors daughter are doing at 10:33 at night.”

“Tacos!” Eliza exclaimed, looking at me and quirking up an eyebrow. “Isn’t that right, Maria?”

“Yep, tacos,” I said, hoping that I sounded convincing enough.

“You’re going to get tacos at ten o'clock at night?”

“That’s what other people do. Haven’t you been saying you want me to do some more normal activities?” I asked, ignoring the urge to put air quotes around the word normal.

“Be back by curfew,” she granted. She stifled a yawn, and walked back in the direction of her bedroom. I turned back to Eliza, and the glint in her eyes said we most certainly were not going to be back by curfew.

“Good thing I decided against any camouflage face paint, because that would have been harder to explain,” Eliza muttered, before grabbing my wrist and pulling me out the front door. She tossed me the keys to the car, and ran to it. She jumped onto the hood, sliding across it perfectly before landing on her feet on the other side.

“C’mon, slowpoke.” She pulled open the passenger seat door, dropping into it. I elected the much safer option, and walked to the car, sitting down in the driver’s seat after pulling the door open. Eliza had her feet kicked up on the dash, and she was humming quietly to herself.

“I cannot believe you talked me into stealing my parents car.”

“I cannot believe you told me where the keys were,” she countered. “Not that I wouldn't’ve found them on my own.” Ignoring her, I put the key in the ignition and backed out of the driveway.

“So,” I began, tapping my fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel. “What exactly do you have planned for tonight?”

“Firstly, that would require a few months worth of backstory, which I am going to sum up as easily as possible.”

“Shoot.”

“My boyfriend, whom I have been with for many months now, has been fucking my older sister,” she said these seventeen words as if they were the most normal things, the most painfully obvious, in-your-face things. And what do you say to the girl who just said these seventeen words, that had admitted that the one person closest to her had done this?

You say sorry.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. Not like you knew, I sure didn’t.” She took a deep breath. “But Peggy did, and she never told me. Angelica didn’t tell me for months, and Alexander-” she broke off. “And Alexander did all of it. He slept with her, and she…” Eliza stopped, taking in another deep breath. “Apparently she initiated it.”

Sweet jesus, I thought, who the hell does that to their own sister? Then I was immediately hit with the next thought like a stray gust of wind: that was almost you.

Eliza’s voice snapped me from the sudden thought that has consumed me momentarily. “And you know what the most terrible thing is?” Eliza asked, and apparently she was not waiting for a response because immediately following those words came these: “if she would have told me before I even dated him, if she would have told me that she loved him. I would have stayed away. He’d be hers, and my heart would have broke, but at least it wouldn’t have been like this.”

“Is that why you were crying earlier?” I asked before I could stop myself. “After school, in the parking lot.”

“I-” she began, then stopped. “Yeah. I walked home after that. Angelica is at her apartment, I didn’t want to be locked in a car with her for fifteen minutes.” She bit her lip. “I could barely even look at her,” her voice was a whisper, featherlight and quiet.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, you need to go to that huge Walmart impersonator store on 3rd.”

“Why are we going to a box store at 11:13 at night?”

“Because before problems can be solved, the solutions need to be bought with paper that has a value.” We pulled into the parking lot of the 24 hour store, and she passed me a piece of notebook paper that had been ripped from its spiral binding.

“And, I think a Benjamin Franklin will be enough to cover that,” she said, tossing a wadded up hundred dollar bill in my lap. “Benny is a friend of mine, use him wisely.”

I unfolded the notebook paper, scanning the page. Immediately, I noticed that Eliza didn’t capitalize any letters in any of the words.

matchesflourglitterballoons(the kind that can easily be filled with flour and glitter)rubber bandsnairlight blue spray paintitching powder

“What’re you waiting for, lesgo!” She said, clapping her hands, and jumping out of my moms car. I followed her, pocketing the list and the money.

“Hey there,” the cashier said, pulling what he assumed to be an attractive and sultry glance. “How’re you gorgeous ladies doing tonight.”

“We’re doing wonderful,” Eliza answered, before I could tell him off.

“You know, if one of you would like to spend some time with me-”

“No thanks,” Eliza said, cutting him off and wrapping an arm around my waist. “She’s the gay Maria to my gay Eliza.” The cashier didn’t seem to believe her words, and opened his mouth to say something else. She looked at me for just a second, a glance that was enough to leave my cheeks burning. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss against my cheek; if my cheeks weren’t burning before, they were now. Finally, the cashier whitened, and shut his mouth. He turned around, and pretended to sort through the cigarette boxes behind the counter.

“Alright, gay Maria, we have shopping to do.” Not releasing the grip on my waist, she turned me around to face the aisles.

“So,” I said, still very aware of her arm around my waist. “What exactly are we using the itching powder for?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” was her answer. She let go of my waist after lightly squeezing my hip, and disappeared down an aisle.

“‘Liza…” I didn’t want to be left alone with creepy cashier guy, so I followed her.

“Do you know if this place has a pharmacy aisle?” Eliza asked, reappearing with a packet of balloons in her hand. “Because I forgot to add a necessary item to that list.”

“Yeah, I think. It’s this way.” We walked down the aisles, Eliza occasionally stopping to grab something we needed.

“Here we are.” She walked down the pharmacy aisle, before grabbing something and adding it to the growing pile of stuff in her arms.

“What was that, Eliza?” I asked, my eyebrows scrunching up.

“Condoms,” she answered plainly. “They’re for Peggy, part of the revenge plot.”

“And what’re you going to do with the condoms, once you give them to Peggy?”

“Oh, you’ve misunderstood,” she said, turning to face me. She began to walk backwards, putting all of her weight on the balls of her feet. “These are to be hidden in Peggy’s room without her knowledge, and then I’m going to leave an anonymous tip to our dad.” She turned around, walking normally again.

“You evil genius,” I muttered under my breath, and followed her. She grabbed a basket from a stack at the end of an aisle contains nothing but breakfast cereals, and held it out towards me. I took it, and she dumped everything– the balloons, condoms, flour, rubber bands, and the matches– into the basket.

“So, how do all of these things come into play?”

“They come into play in the sense that we use all of them in the Elizabeth Schuyler revenge plot,” she answered, turning into the craft aisle and tossing a plastic bottle of silver glitter in my direction. I caught it, setting it down in the basket just as she tossed a second bottle of gold glitter.

“The one thing Peggy hates more than a mess, is glitter being a part of that mess,” she announced, walking out of the aisle and looking up at the plastic signs with the contents of each area listed on them. She stopped at one that said paint, and walked in the direction of the arrow next to it.

She finally stopped in front of a wall of spray paints in various colours. We walked through them, until she grabbed one, seemingly satisfied. “That’s the closest match to my prom dress,” she explained, without me having to ask.

We got the rest of the items from her list, and she awkwardly stared down the cashier as he was scanning our items. He stared suspiciously at the condoms, no doubt wondering why two girls that had described themselves as gay would be buying condoms, but he closed his mouth and said nothing.

“It is,” Eliza stopped, looking at the watch on her left wrist before announcing, “11:42. We can do this.” We jumped into the car, setting the three bags in the back.

“Where to now?” I asked, looking at Eliza.

“Now, we go to Angelica’s apartment,” she said. “Baaaasically, this is going to be the best night of your life.”


“Oh, I was not expecting that,” Eliza said, rolling her eyes. “That’s Alexander’s car. Outside of Angelica’s building.”

“What does that- ohh.“

“Not a good day to be Alexander,” Eliza muttered. “Park behind the building, we can walk.” She reached into the back, grabbing the itching powder and the spray paint.

“I will do the dirty work, and you will keep watch. I’ll call Angelica before we enter her apartment, Alexander will run off, believe me.” Eliza pushed open the door to the car, motioning for me to follow. She walked to Alexander’s car, opening the door. “Idiot doesn’t even know that his car doors won’t lock if the keys are still inside of it.” She grabbed the keys, and slammed the door shut, locking it. She pocketed the keys, and started towards Angelica’s building.

“Wait, won’t Angelica still be in her room?” I asked, catching up with Eliza.

“Nope,” she answered, opening the door to Angelica’s apartment building. “Angelica is the only person I know that takes a shower after sex, no matter if the guy runs off or not.” She walked up the stairs, stopping at the end of Angelica’s hall.

She pulled her phone out of her back pocket, and dialed Angelica’s number. It rang for a bit, before Angelica answered. “Hi, ‘Liza.”

“Hello,” Eliza said, false cheer in her voice. “How’s Alexander?”

Angelica was silent a bit, before saying, “I… don’t know. I haven’t seen him in a while.” She was clearly lying, and Eliza rolled her eyes. As if on cue, Alexander rushed out of Angelica’s apartment, in only underwear, his clothes balled up in his hands. He caught sight of Eliza, and she came forward.

“Gotta go, Angelica.” She hung up on her sister, and grabbed Alexander’s clothes from his hands. She looked to her side, noticing the trash chute. She dumped the clothes into it, shutting it with a metallic clang.

Alexanders eyes widened, and he pointed between Eliza and the trash chute. “Did you just throw my fucking clothes in there?!”

“Absolutely, and you best believe this was a dream,” Eliza said, and he walked away, flipping her the bird. Once he was out of sight, I approached Eliza.

“I think I even believe that was a dream,” I said, and Eliza half-smiled before walking into Angelica’s apartment. The shower was running, and Eliza put a finger to her lips, and raised her eyebrows.

“You keep watch, I’ll go and fix problem un.” She walked into Angelica’s room, and I stood outside the door, watching as she sprinkled the itching powder into Angelica’s clothes. Finally, she took the spray paint out of her pocket, shaking it. The ball inside of the can clicked against the metal three times, before she uncapped it. In one precise, fluid motion, she spray painted a light blue lowercase e onto the wall above Angelica’s dresser.

She recapped the spray paint, and came out of the room, closing the door. “Let’s go, before-”

“Eliza?” Eliza’s eyes widened fractionally, and she turned towards her sister. Angelica was wearing a tank top and wonder woman underwear, her wet curls pulled back behind her head.

Their eyes met, and in that moment I saw years worth of a sisterhood stretch out– I could see Angelica and Eliza, dandelions woven into their hair, despite their obligatory status as weeds. I could see Angelica bandaging Eliza’s knee after she had scraped it on their driveway. I could hear Eliza’s shouts after Angelica had fallen out of a tree they had been climbing, and I could see her running for their dad after jumping out of the tree when Angelica hadn’t gotten back up. I could see them leaving their house together for prom– and as I watched them now, Angelica’s mouth formed an inaudible word and I couldn’t read lips.

Eliza tore her gaze away from Angelica before grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the apartment.

Angelica didn’t even try to come after us.


“Next,” she said, after slamming the door to the passenger side of the car shut. “We go to Alexander’s. It’s an apartment, down in Washington heights.”

“I know where he lives,” I said, and Eliza furrowed her brow.

“How?”

“I went to a party there, once. Never went back.”

“Oh,” she said, and was silent for a moment. “Was this party in November?”

“Yeah, why?”

“That’s the first time Angelica slept with him,” Eliza said, kicking her feet up on the dashboard and tossing the spray paint end-over-end, catching it every time. I didn’t reply. Instead, I thought.

I thought about the party, about Alexander kissing me, and about the smell of alcohol still on our breaths. And I remember that I remembered Eliza, and I had shoved him away. Thinking I cannot do this to Eliza, I can’t and I ran, escaping out a window because the house was too crowded, and shimming down a tree. I had enough sense to call Sarah, who picked me up and drove me home.

“Maria!” I snapped myself out of my thoughts, and looked to Eliza. “You drove past his building. You sure you know where you’re going?” She asked, a joking tone lining her voice.

“Yeah,” I answered, biting my lip and circling back around to park in front of Alexander’s building. His car wasn’t there, and there was no way he’d made his way back yet. Eliza grabbed the bag contains the nair, and jumped out from the car. I followed after her, and she made her way into the building.

We walked up two flights of stairs, before stopping at Alexander’s door. She pulled a lock pick from her pocket, and in a matter of minutes she had the door opened. “Let’s go.” She walked in, closing the door behind us.

“We need to work fast, in case Alexander gets back.” She tossed me the spray paint. “Get an e on the wall, above the kitchen counter. Make sure it’s lowercase.” I nodded, and she disappeared into one of the room in the hallway.

I walked into the kitchen, and shook the paint quickly. I uncapped it, and leaned over the counter. I sprayed a lowercase e onto the wall with the baby blue spray paint, and looked at it for a moment, before spraying a small, almost indistinguishable lowercase m next to it.

“Ooh, I like it.” Eliza had reappeared behind me. She had her hands on her hips, her head tilted, as if she was appraising the vandalism. “The m is a nice touch. I approve.”

“Let’s get out of here before-” I was cut off by the sound of the front door opening, and I grabbed Eliza’s wrist, pulling her to Alexander’s bedroom.

“Maria, what’re you- oh.” She realized what I was doing just as I threw the window open, and I stuck my upper body out of it, grabbing onto the tree branch and pulling the rest of my body out. Once I was in the tree, making my way down, Eliza followed.

I jumped the last few feet, landing clumsily and almost falling. Eliza, of course, jumped and landed in a way that would make gymnasts jealous.

“For part trois, we go back to my house.”


I pulled back into our neighborhood, parking a block away. Eliza grabbed the balloons, and held them still while I poured glitter and flour into them. She grabbed the condoms, opening the box and taking a few out. She held them up between her fingers. “Gotta make it look like she’s used a few.” And threw them into the backseat.

We walked a block to her house, and she opened the door quietly, leading me up the stairs and into Peggy’s bedroom. Peggy was asleep in her bed, her cropped curls wild, and her face relaxed in sleep.

Eliza grabbed a stepstool by the door, and climbed onto it, tying the balloons onto the fan. She had explained that once the fan was turned on, the balloons would burst, scattering flour and glitter everywhere in Peggy’s room. She dropped the box of condoms into the draw on Peggy’s nightstand, smirking.

Once she was finished, she spray painted an e onto the wall, letting me spray paint a small m next to it.

“I have one more thing to do here.” She walked out of the room, and I followed her into the hallway, but she had disappeared. In a matter of seconds, she had appeared from what had to be the door to her bedroom, a bright yellow folder tucked under her arm.

I followed her out of the house, and to the car. She didn’t say a word until we were back inside it. “Now we go to the old campgrounds.”

“Eliza, that’s almost an hour drive and it’s-” I stopped to look at the time. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“This is the last thing, after that you won’t have to do anything else for me.” She promised, and I looked at her suspiciously, put turned the car on anyway.


She had fallen asleep in the passenger seat. Her whole body was relaxed, a look on her face that said her emotional safety net had been dropped.

I pulled into the camp grounds, and nudged Eliza on the shoulder gently. She woke up, blinking hard in an attempt to clear the sleepiness from her mind.

“Did I fall asleep?” She asked quietly. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, before I could answer.

“It’s alright. But we’re here, what’s so important about the campgrounds?”

“Right, grab the matches,” she said, pressing the folder to her chest and getting out of the car. I reached into the back, grabbing the matches from the now empty grocery bag.

I followed Eliza, until she stopped. We had arrived at the fire pit, a small circle of rocks and dirt that never grew anything. Eliza had gathered some sticks, and had brought newspaper with her.

“We’re starting a fire, and then we’re going to burn these.” She opened the folder, showing me the papers inside. I realized that these were all love letters, addressed to Eliza, and written in a curly script. “They’re from Alexander. I’m burning them.”

“Woah, Eliza.” I grabbed her wrist, pulling her to face me. “Are you sure you want to burn these?”

“I’ve bought the matches. I brought the folder here, and I made you drive for forty-five minutes so I could burn these in the place he kissed me for the first time when I was fourteen,” she said, her voice growing in pitch and becoming more and more intimidating. “I’m sure.”

That was all the confirmation I needed, and I arranged the newspaper and sticks, lighting a match. I lit the newspaper, and it started to burn, the fire eating away at the words until they were nothing but black char.

Eliza grabbed two papers from the folder, tossing them onto the flames. As those burned, she grabbed a couple more and those joined the first in the flames. Soon enough, she had emptied the folder, and I watched the flames as they lapped at the pages. She threw the folder on top of them, before taking a deep, rattling breath.

She began crying quietly, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her against me as she cried. We stood there for what felt like an infinite amount my time, the flames dancing in front of us, and my fingers combing through her hair in what I hoped was a calming fashion.

After a few minutes, she pulled away, wiping her cheeks off. “I’m sorry, I’m okay now.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I whispered. “And I believe you.”

“Thank you,” she pulled me into a hug, squeezing her arms around my waist. “I had fun.”

“So did I.” She pulled away from the hug, staring me in the face. I could see a light sprinkling of freckles across her nose and on her cheekbones, and she leaned up, pressing another kiss to my cheek. This time, however, it wasn’t to get a creepy cashier off our backs.

“We need to get going, it’s 1:47.” Eliza said, and rushed off. The fire had burned out, with only a few scraps of paper left. The only legible one read Eliza’s name in a curling script. I followed Eliza, knowing now that she had precisely nothing left to lose.


“This was an amazing night, Eliza.” It was 2:57 in the morning, and I had never felt this awake. “Truly.”

“I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to go on a midnight escapade with,” Eliza said, handing me the spray paint. “Truly.”

She pulled me in for another hug, and whispered in my ear. “I. Am. Going. To. Miss. You.”

“You’ll see me tomorrow.” I couldn’t see her face, but if I could have, I would’ve known she had grimaced, biting her lip.

“That’s true,” she finally said, and pulled away.

“Goodnight, Eliza.”

“Goodbye, Maria.” She turned on her heel, jogging back to her house and climbed up the tree The would allow her to walk on the roof and into the window.

I waved at her one final time, before walking into my house and sneaking back into the room. I peeled off my jeans, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and falling into bed, hoping that I would wake up tomorrow and none of this would have been a dream.


School was normal, achingly so. I saw Eliza nowhere– she didn’t eat lunch with us, didn’t pass me in the hallway– it was like she disappeared entirely.

Once I arrived home, I knew immediately that something was wrong. A fancy silver car was parked in our driveway, a car that screamed official business.

“Mom, I’m home,” I called out, and she replied from the dining room. My mother was sitting at the table next to my father. Eliza’s dad sat across from them, his hands folded together on the table. A man I didn’t know stood behind Eliza’s dad, with a 5 o’clock shadow and wearing a tailored suit.

“What’s going on?” I asked, setting my bag down.

“It seems,” my mother began. “That Eliza has gone missing.”

And suddenly, it all made sense. The spray painting, the revenge, the burning of the letters, and the somersaulting into my room at 10:04 at night wearing a hoodie. The simple fact that Eliza had said Goodbye, Maria instead of Goodnight, Maria. suddenly even made sense, and I know one thing to be true.

Eliza wouldn’t be found until she wanted to be.

It was fun reading through that OP thinking “well, this seems like a cool way to just remove poor people from an area while possibly dodging regs about affordable housing, but I will withold judgment until I see what benefits you think that captures” only to to realize that those were the benefits.

Imagine being so evil that you spend your days thinking up cool new ways to help the wealthy avoid contact with the poor while simultaneously saving them (the wealthy) money (which they, definitionally, have plenty of).

Fuckin’ imagine.

Dean X Reader: toddlers

Request: Hey i know youre probably super busy (its just cause your writing is soooo amazing) but can you do one where the reader gets tirned into a little kid and she has a crush on Dean and stuff and the guys have to take care of her?

Request: The reader and Dean get turned into babies and Sam and Cas try to take care of them and its really adorable and cute and sweet and funny :3

Request: Those fanfics bout the characters turning into a child was grt pls do something like that again were somhow dean says that he likes the reader and the reader doesnt really know how to respond then she tells him she loves him Awkward pls make it cute!

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anonymous asked:

Omg can you write about the day Harry and the missus met in the coffee shop?! I know you're busy with the pregnancy series, but I'd love to read a one shot where Harry meets the love of his life and she spills coffee on his expensive boots ;)

Here’s a little-tiny part of the sneaky flashback to how Harry and the missus first met. I might do a Part Two for this where they go on their first date and she appears with cheap shoes that look almost similar to the ones she ruined. 

(What do you guys think?) 

This is also written in 3rd person, and I’m just testing around with it, haha. x

Harry loved boots.

Fancy boots, suede boots, leather boots and winter boots were just the few he could list that were lined neatly along the wall of his London home. 

With a heavy pocket of his monthly pay and his love for the specific style of shoe, weekly trips to the stores in London were a must, to keep him modern and up to date with the new style gracing the shelves; a style that many would begin to wear to kick of he fashion trend. When Gemma would see a pair that he knew would fit right in with the colours he already had, she would instantly inform him, with a text or an immediate phone-call, of the news and he’d waste no time grabbing his car keys and making the trip to the shopping centre to get what he yearned for.

Online shopping only took place when he felt too lazy to stick on his shoes, grab his car keys and pop to the shops to get the latest shoe, and if he was to be honest, he loved and preferred to sit behind the screen of his Macbook or scroll down the lists upon his phone and look through boots that took his fancy. 

His current ones were his favourite.

After throwing away and bidding farewell to his worn-out, dark brown leather boots that had holes forming at the toes and scratches along the material, he needed new ones to look after and wear and pair with an outfit consisting of black jeans and a coat that kept him warm from the cold days of the month; an outfit that brought attention to his feet because of the contrasting colours - brown suede Chelsea boots brought and delivered and stored, ready to be collected upon his free own time, in the London Yves Saint Laurent store; a store (both online and on the streets) that he’d taken a loving too upon his stumbling arrival to the part of London that he’d never really spent enough time in and, beyond his first visit and a friendly conversation with the one behind the counter, he’d found difficulty in walking the streets outside of the doors and not popping in to see if there had been new stocks sent in of new and needed and loved boots that people were after.

Once the arrival email from Yves Saint Laurent had been sent to him in the hours of the mid-afternoon, he was out of his front door before anyone could say and finish the word boots. His car keys hung around his fingers, his house-keys tucked into his coat pocket with a few tissues stuffed in to suffice and wipe at his running and red and sniffling nose, his phone slipped into his front jean pocket and turned up in case someone from management or one of the boys had tried to contact him to get to the studio for an impromptu recording session. He’d had a tough few days with work running him down to the ground and the winter weather peering around the corners and bringing his immune system down to weak and feeble and tired, and, this was the added bonus to his life that had brought excitement through him.

Excitement that anybody would feel when something they’d been so excited for had been delivered. 

With a tissue in his hand, wiping at his running nose, he’d entered the store with wide arms and a coat tail caught up in the wind. A box on the glass counter-top that he knew had a pair of brown suede boots calling his name, awaiting for his feet to be slid into the thick and tight constraints. And with an a-okay from the receptionist behind the counter in removing the shoes from the box, he’d toed off his buckled boots and let them fall haphazardly to the shiny and tiled floor of the store, his eager and selfish hands immediately grabbing the shoes and sliding them over his socked feet without an hesitation making it’s way over his limbs. 

He was eager to have them on his feet. 

Eager to wear them in and make them as comfortable as his others. 

Eager to show people just how lovely and luscious he though they were.

And with an internal and guttural groan followed by a quiet yet audible verbal thank-you to the receptionist, he was out of the shop in no time. A new and bright and happy grin on his pink and plump lips, his cheeks rosy red and his teeth showing, dimples popping and ready to make people weak at the knees; the tissue from before was now stuck into his hand to wipe at the bridge of his nose, to save himself from papped shots that had him be the talk of town because he’d ‘snotted and made a fool of himself’. He’d thrown his old boots in the front footwall of his car, before he’d jogged across the road, a Starbucks cup of tea seemingly desired and causing a craving in his tummy - and he had the time to waste in the coffee house. 

Dodging puddles and hopping over fresh gum stuck to the gravel of the pavement, he’d made it across the small one-way road without a scuff or a mark on the toes of his new boots, and with a palm flat against the window of the door, he pushed the barricade open and stepped foot inside the building. Much needed warmth flushing his body immediately, a sigh leaving his mouth as the yellow-filtered lights shadowed his figure. His nose tingling and his cheeks becoming more flushed by the moment, with his eyes set on one seat in the seating area that gave him the privacy he desired - he really didn’t want to meet fans when he was sick, because the last thing he wanted to do was give someone a dreaded cold. It was a nearly empty coffee house, with 2 queuing for a warm beverage and a couple sat at one table by the window, so, he hadn’t run the risk of bumping into anybody or come to the trouble of having a seat stolen from him.

He’d stood as the third customer in the queue, behind a man with glasses and earphones hanging down his chest, poking up from the neck of his t-shirt as well as directly behind a girl who stood with her head down in a book that must have been interesting because, when her bag fell from her shoulder and hung from the joint of her elbow, she did nothing but leave it without adjusting it back up her shoulder. To Harry’s preferences and his opinions, she’d taken a risky deal about bringing the new E.L James book out in public, the current named book ‘50 Shades of Grey’ being the conversation topic for many women who had been excited about the Christian Grey era, but, who was he to judge? 

He’d read the book himself, per request of Gemma.

A blush could be seen on her cheeks when it was her time to order, and he swore, he felt his heart skip a beat when her order rolled off of her tongue. A caramel cappuccino to have in, paired with a slice of carrot cake and a packet of brownies that she hesitantly reached for. You had a sweet voice - as sweet as the sugar he’d put in his cup of tea - and it was one he felt he could listen to on a daily basis. 

One he could imagine saying yes to his proposal of going on a date, one he could imagine saying yes to his proposal of becoming his wife, one he could imagine saying I do at the alter on your wedding day, and one he could imagine reading to your children when it was time for them to go to sleep.

He didn’t want to jump the gun and, he wasn’t one to jump in and sweep a stranger off their feet, he felt a different feeling with her - a stranger of which he knew nothing about. 

Her name was (Y/N), given as an response to what the order would be named under. And, now he knew her name, he wanted to know more.

“Mr Styles, hello. How may I help you?” The young barista questioned as (Y/N) moved from her space with her book clutched tightly in her hand. He’d expected her to show admiration or give him her attention, much like others would do when he was named in public, heads turning almost immediately turning to confirm their minds wanders. 

But nothing was given to him. And his brain had been planted with the thought that maybe she wasn’t into him or maybe she hadn’t the bother to give him the time of day because of his status. Maybe if he wasn’t famous and part of a worldwide-known boyband, she’d have looked up at the claim of his presence.

“Would you like your usual?”

He was pulled from his thoughts, his trance, his swimming mind.

“Of course. Thank you,” Harry smiled, pulling his wallet from his coat pocket and pulling his card from a section inside. “It’s cold out there today.”

“Everyone who’s come in has complained,” the young barista laughed, her hand clutching a pen and writing his name on the side of the paper cup, “have you been up to anything nice today?”

“I just popped opposite to grab my new boots. Trying to wear them in as we speak,” Harry chuckled, looking down at his still fresh, still unmarked, still tight around his feet brown suede boots. “Could I get a chocolate muffin on the side with that? I’ve not eaten much today and I feel like going off my diet.”

“A diet, Harry? You have to be joking,” she laughed, setting the cup on the side, ready to be filled with his order. “Feel free to go and sit down. We’ll bring everything over for you, if you’d like.”

“No, no. It’s more than okay. I’m going to pop to the toilet anyway,” he smiled slipping his card into the machine and pushing his pin in; he was thankful that payment was so simple these days. 

With a smile given to the barista, he walked around the counter and made his way to the side door marked W.C, the door closing behind him and locking it with a click. 

As Harry went about his business, flushed the chain and washed his hands, he shrugged his coat off and let the sleeves of his shirt flat out from being crinkled beneath the thick and heavy sleeves of his coat, his arms flushed with the cold air, before he pushed open the door and made his way over to the counter, his coat hanging over his forearm as he saw his named cup sitting with hot water steaming inside. His fingertips were itching and tingling for the warmth he could imagine fro the steam emitting from the rim, and, he could just reach out and grab it in his hold. 

A soft thank-you could be heard from beside him, and Harry knew that (Y/N) wasn’t even partially aware of his presence behind her, and with his body reaching forward for the paper cup of water and her body turning on her heels, he’d not expected to be covered in her beverage. His white t-shirt stained brown, his black jeans patterned with dark spots of liquid and his boots wet and already smelling like coffee. 

He looked up to scold her, his chest constricting as he caught sight of her features; she stared at him in awe as well as shock as well a look that he thought was going to end up in her leaking a few tears and dabbing at his shirt with shaking hands.

“Oh, my god. I am so sorry,” she panicked, her eyes bug-eyed and her lips agape. As she gulped nervously, unclear about his reaction. She examined her damage, gasping loudly when she looked down at his speckled and stained boots; boots she knew were brand new and fresh on his feet. “Oh, my god. Your boots. I heard they were new. Oh my god, I am so sorry, Harry. Please, let me buy you a new pair, and a new coffee, and-”

“Hey, hey. Stop it, love. It’s more than okay,” Harry stated, “please, don’t worry about it.”

“But, you’re probably wearing such expensive clothes. I can afford to pay for them. I’ll save up my months pay and I can buy you some new ones and they’ll be exactly what you have on now,” she panicked, his hands coming to cup her shoulders, “I’m so clumsy today. I tripped over at work and people laughed at me, and I dropped my notes into a puddle and people just stared at me, and I just spilt my coffee over Harry Styles.”

A snicker left Harry’s lips.

“(Y/N), please. It’s okay,” he cooed, rubbing his thumbs against the curves of her shoulder. “Please, don’t worry.”

“But, you’ll be walking around in coffee-smelling boots,” she explained, looking down at the suede material and internally groaned at the sight. She was only fresh out of college education, a new intern job on her hands and she wasn’t exposed to the handfuls of cash and triple figure payments made to her account, and she couldn’t begin to imagine just how much the shoes on his feet cost - he’d been in the public eye for 2 years already, and, she felt threatened and poor when it came to thinking about the money he’d earned by doing his dream job. “I really am so sorry, Harry.”

“(Y/N), please. I have my old boots in the car, so, it’s fine. I was going home after this cup of tea anyway, so, I wouldn’t be walking have coffee-drenched socks for long,” he snickered and pulled his hands away from her body, “let me buy you a new coffee?”

“No, no. I couldn’t, Harry. I should be doing things for you. To make up for my clumsiness,” she whispered, your chin ducking down to her chest, “I honestly cannot believe I just spilt coffee over you.”

“(Y/N), seriously,” Harry smiled in amusement, “don’t worry about it.

a/n: okay, this is my submission for jilytober! I’m posting it here rather than on the official jilytober tumblr because it went over the word limit by, ahem, a lot, and there wasn’t the read more option when you submit. I’m sorry!

thank you for asking me to participate in this! it’s such a fun way to celebrate Jily and I had a lot of fun writing my fic. I could write 20,000 words of a happy, long Jily life if you let me. happy Jilytober, everyone! :) 

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Empathy

Finally, more than 24 hours after I said I was going to post it (because I’m an unreliable fuck) here’s my Steven Universe Peridot/Lapis tickle fic. @tickly-giggles​,this is for you. It’s a little lengthy, but I hope you guys like it!

——-

Peridot wanted to help Lapis, and if she was fully honest with herself, deep down, she felt it her duty as a newly instated “Crystal Gem” to do just that.

——-

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When The Angel Woos The Clay

Written because, like everyone else, I’m totally bummed about the loss of Mary. BUT though I think John behaved like an arsehole, I think his behaviour was very human. Guilt and projection are terrible motivators. I also think- because I’m a born pessimist- that things will get worse before they get better, and that the worseness will look something like this…

Title comes from the Patrick Kavanagh poem, “On Raglan Road.”

WHEN THE ANGEL WOOS THE CLAY

It starts small.

A brush against her hand here. A touch to the small of her back there. When she looks at John he’s never looking at her, and at first Molly puts it down to mere oversight. A desire, however unconscious, for human contact, a reaching out for someone who will never reach back now. He’s lost his wife, she reminds herself, he’s abandoned his best friend- John’s having a hard time of it and he has a child to raise.

So Molly, being Molly, says nothing.

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